Fifty First Dates
by Incomprehensible
Summary: There are as many fish in the sea as there are Sesshomarus in Fanfiction. You just have the to find the one that doesn't give you food poisoning. -- challenge
1. I

Characters and plot belong to their rightful owners.

**Fifty First Dates**

Kagome stared at the man before her, an unimpressed gleam in her eye as she took in the rumpled suit and the bags under his eyes.

The raven-haired woman twisted the shoulder strap of her purse nervously under the table, wondering how this had happened. Sure, when she'd said that she wanted to expand her horizons, she hadn't meant _this_. Kagome had the feeling that she might have had more luck on one of those dating-type sites she'd been hearing about from Sango – her best friend – for weeks. The woman in question had met her match on one of said sites nearly a year beforehand, but Kagome didn't hold much hope for her own future (which was looking dimmer and dimmer every time she snuck a glance) on one of those sites.

After all, it wasn't Kagome's fault she was technically challenged.

Apparently socially challenged, too.

Kagome seriously doubted her people-judging skills at the moment.

No, that wasn't true – she doubted _Sango's_ people-judging skills at the moment.

There was no way she would have given this man a second glance, let alone spared him a first glance if it had been up to her. But, it hadn't been up to her, and she'd foolishly trusted Sango to set her up with a blind date.

Brushing all thoughts of Sango and immediately severing all relations with the young woman as soon as possible from her mind, Kagome smoothed the folds out of her business-like suit skirt.

"What do you do for a living again?" She asked purposefully, trying to give the question as uninterested an air as possible. From the cocked eyebrow and the stifled yawn sent her way by the silver-haired stranger, Kagome knew she'd failed.

"I'm an exorcist." He replied easily, blinking slowly and rolling his shoulders.

God, she didn't even _know_ this stranger's name!

"So they pay you to sleep." She replied with no hesitation, her eyes flickering over his face once more, lingering on the pale purple bruises under his lower lash line.

The man smirked lazily and Kagome restrained the urge to stand, point at him and accuse him of sloth. _Everything_ about this man screamed 'lazy', down to the drooping white hair (obviously bleached, she thought with a scoff) tumbling down his shoulders and back.

"That sounds right." He drawled, leaning back in his chair.

"And let me get this straight-" she paused, looking down at the neatly folded paper on the pale yellow tablecloth. "-your apprentice is... a small green kappa demon?"

The man sighed loudly and Kagome looked up sharply at the sound. "No, he was my last _job_." He clarified, and Kagome got the distinct impression that she was being mocked. The honest (if somewhat faked, in her opinion) sincerity on his face made her narrow her eyes in scepticism and purse her lips. She didn't like this man.

"Uh-huh."

The rest of the date was spent in silence. At one point or another, Kagome was positive the man had even fallen asleep on her.

Charming.

There wasn't going to be a second date, and bad, bad (and possibly illegal) things were going to happen to Sango.

_(Call me a cow, call me a frog, call me what you want, but it's still here. Challenge by DreamWeaver posted on Dokuga. - Incomprehensible)_


	2. II

Characters and plot belong to their rightful owners.

**Fifty First Dates**

Kagome hefted the big, bright, _ugly_ yellow _Sack of Doom_ over her shoulder and disappeared into the subway car, throwing a three-fingered wave back at Souta and Jii-chan.

The first thing she noticed as the electronic sliding door clicked shut behind her, and thus sealed her fate, was the crowd. It wasn't something she hadn't expected, and it wasn't uncommon for the subway to be packed full with sweaty, hot, sticky people, but it was always so much more shocking when she finally realized that she would be forced to spend the forty minute ride smushed between said sweaty, hot, sticky people for the duration of that time.

The next thing she noticed was the sputtering lights, and her lip curled in distaste. Over the years, Kagome had found that she and claustrophobia had become friends. It had probably come from that one time she'd been trapped in the ancient well that nobody was ever allowed to visit unless they were Jii-chan or Buyo.

Kagome glanced down at her watch and blanched, elbowing her way through the crowd until she was standing near the front of the train, the _Sack of Doom_ digging into her back painfully.

"Where are you, Mister Driver?" She muttered under her breath, stealing another glance at her watch. She was in time and on the right train, so where was her date?

The situation was laughable, really – she'd tried to tell Sango about it, but she wouldn't have believed herself if she had mentioned ghosts, either. It was one of those 'see-it-to-believe-it' things, she supposed.

The ghost-like chill she felt when an actual ghost appeared prickled the skin on her arms and raised the hair at the back of her neck, and Kagome didn't even need to look over to know that her date had arrived.

"You're late." She intoned, making a show of not looking at the man, knowing that he would be smiling that damn smile of his that always seemed insincere and just a touch mocking.

"Terribly sorry, Miss. I had some matters to attend to in another cabin."

Kagome raised an incredulous eyebrow. She knew very well, from an earlier conversation she'd had with him, that his presence was strictly limited to this car and this car _only_.

"Whatever. You need to change the lights," they flickered ominously here. "They look like they might go out any second."

"Do they scare you?" He asked, dipping his face in front of her and pulling his conductor's hat low over his eyes. Kagome shook her head. "Do _I_ scare you?" Kagome shook her head. "Too bad."

"You couldn't."

"I could!"

She snorted disbelievingly, and hummed out a low, androgynous tone. She knew he hated it. It was why she did it.

"I definitely could. You shouldn't doubt me, Miss. It's awfully rude."

Kagome could have pointed out that stalking and incessant badgering was rude, too, but didn't.

"What are we talking about today?" She asked, tightening her grip on the strap looped around her shoulder.

"Do they frighten you terribly? The lights, I mean."

Kagome tried to relax her tensed body and shook her head, but clung tighter to her backpack strap when the car shuttered around another curve and the lights blinked out for a horrible, long second.

"Ah," he chuckled, stepping closer to her body, bringing the chill and the musk of death with him. "They do, don't they? How wondrous."

"What do you know?" She snapped, wondering why she had even agreed to do this. Dead conductor or not, she hated trains, planes, buses and ferries. She never should have agreed to go on this "date". "About fear, I mean. You don't have to fear anything!"

He didn't reply, and for the next ten minutes, the only sound in the car was the wheels spinning on the tracks and the people shuffling behind them.

"I'm afraid of many things," he said, and Kagome startled. She hadn't realized he was still there. He was funny like that, though - pulsing in and out of coherent thought. She had to focus to see his materialization. He continued, "I'm afraid of being alone, I'm afraid of age... I'm afraid of death."

Kagome snorted, finding that very unlikely. "You're already dead." She informed him haughtily, but her throat constricted when he pierced her with his gaze. It was the first time she had looked at him directly. "You must have been a rebel." She declared uneasily, changing the subject and averting her eyes again. She hated seeing ghosts and aberrant spectres. From the corner of her eye, she appraised him - the conductor's hat that sat on long, white hair tied into a ponytail that hung over his left shoulder; the golden eyes; lean physical structure and uniformed presentation. He hadn't been a punk, she knew; he'd been a gentleman.

He snorted and managed to sound contrite, no trace of the seriousness that had been before. "Please, I'd more likely throw myself from a balcony than consort with that company." He punctuated this with a shudder, and Kagome let a ruthy smile curl her lips.

"Did you like your job?" She asked, flicking her finger at the front of the car. She noticed that it was no longer tightly curled around her backpack's strap, but rather relaxed. Maybe he wasn't so bad, after all.

"I did. It gave me many opportunities to chat up the ladies." He winked devilishly, like she'd seen Miroku do, and she gasped in shock.

"You skirt chaser, you!" But she had to stifle the laughter, and the effect was lost. She could see the grin on his face.

The electronic voice chimed in over the speaker that they would be approaching her station soon, and Kagome almost wished that it had been a longer ride.

"Well," they both said at the same time, and she smiled. "I guess this is it."

"I guess so." He echoed, and almost completely dematerialized.

"It's been fun," she said, and then, as an afterthought, added, "I'm Kagome."

"I know."

She gave him a weird look. "Aren't you going to give me yours?"

"I don't remember my name." He replied, and Kagome frowned.

"I'll have to think of one for you, then. You really should do something about those lights, by the way."

And then the door opened and she was gone.

He smiled, and dematerialized fully.

_(So, I've been bad and haven't updated in seven months. I plan on updating more regularly now, but I'm doing NaNo at the same time, so things might get a little stressed and unjointed. Please bear with me! – Incomprehensible)_


End file.
